


Sterek Blips

by MaddietheMuse



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Coffee, Communication, Confessions, Confident Stiles, Courage, Derek Comes Back, Drabble, Fireworks, First Kiss, Fourth of July, Future Fic, Hostage Stiles Stilinski, Hurt/Comfort, Incomplete, M/M, Music, Not Beta Read, Podfic Welcome, Prompt Fill, Protective Stiles, Roscoe the Jeep, Trauma, Tumblr Prompt, Underage Kissing, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2017-12-13 11:19:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaddietheMuse/pseuds/MaddietheMuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is where I will put the increasing number of Sterek fic-lets I seem to be accumulating. I am working on two major chapter fics for another fandom right now and don't feel like I can fully develop these at this time, but sometimes an idea just comes to me and I need to write it down to get it out of my system. Rather than have them sitting around on my computer waiting for me to have time to do something with them (which will likely be never), I am unleashing them here. I will try to add appropriate tags as they apply, but not all tags will apply to all of the fic-lets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Something's Happening Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles confronts Derek about how things have changed between them. 
> 
> Rating: T 
> 
> Word count: 799 

"You should go," he sighed and turned his back to me. He walked up the stairs toward the front door of the burned out house.

"I don't want to," I said, sounding far braver than I actually felt. I felt like turning and running—leaving just like he had told me to do—but that wouldn't address the looming question that I needed an answer to. _'What the hell was going on between us?'_ I couldn't go one more day wondering if what I was reading in the looks he gave me, the way he watched me, the way he would suddenly look away when I looked back at him, all of those secret confusing-as-hell little moments, if any of that was actually what I thought it was—what I desperately hoped it was.

"Stiles," he sighed again, stopping at the top of the stairs but not turning to look back at me.

"No, Derek, just listen for a second, okay?" I forged ahead before my panicking brain could talk me out of this. I stepped away from my jeep toward the house, but stopped at the bottom of the stairs, giving us both some space. "I know that something has changed...well, between us, I guess. And I just want to know why you think that is?" I waited for a moment, hoping he would turn to face me, but he didn't. Instead, his shoulders rolled forward and he rubbed his hand down over his face. I continued after a moment of silence that indicated he wasn't going to answer me. "Because I have an idea about what it could be, you know, that's changed. At least on my part anyway, but I don't really think it's just one sided, and I was hoping that we could, um, talk about it, you know?"

"No," Derek grunted, still resolutely not turning around.

"No? No, we can't talk about it?" I couldn't believe he'd just shut me down like that, after I had been completely forthright with him. "Jesus, Derek, that's bullshit..."

"Not, no, we can't talk about it!" He snapped, interrupting me and whipping around to face me finally. "No, I don't understand. Just..."he sighed heavily and rubbed his face again, before crumpling down to sit on the top step. "Just, give me a second?" he asked, his voice sounding lost and hurt.

"'Kay," I agreed, shocked at his vehemence and sudden deflation.

He pressed the palms of his hands hard against his eyes and breathed deeply for a moment before letting them drop to his knees and looking up to face me straight on. His face was blank and unreadable, which threw me off of my completely unusual bravery.

"Okay, here's the thing, Stiles. Yes, something has changed, but it doesn't matter how much we talk; there's nothing to be done about it. So, can we just drop it?" he asked—no, pleaded. He looked lost and vulnerable. His face was so open and he looked so freaking young that I was totally thrown. Here was the man—and he was a man, that wasn't even a question now—that I had been thinking about pretty much non-stop for the last few months looking nothing like I had ever seen him. He looked like a scared teenager; just like me.

"So, what? We're just going to ignore it and hope that it goes away? Newsflash for you, Derek; it doesn't really work that way. Trust me on that, I've got a lot of experience in this field." I couldn't keep the hurt, snarky tone out of my voice—not that I really tried that hard to be honest. I was hurt, and it felt good to let him know that. "I'm pretty much an expert at unresolved sexual tension," I added, biting the bullet and just spelling it out for him. He just looked at me blankly. At least he wasn't denying it; although, that may have been easier to swallow.

After his silent penetrating glare became more than I could take I asked, "So, that's it? Fine, you can pretend there's nothing happening here if you want to, Derek, but I'm not going to. I'm done pretending that I'm not attracted to you—that I don't think about you all the freakin’ time, okay? There! I said it. And I'm not taking it back, so you can deal with that." I shouted at him. I could feel the anger mixing with total mortification, making my face red and my hands sweat. I would probably have a complete breakdown or a panic attack if I didn't get out of there soon, so I turned back to my jeep. "You know where to find me when you done lying to yourself, Derek," I threw back at him over my shoulder.


	2. Take a Drive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek take a drive to get some time alone away from prying eyes.
> 
> Rating: Teen+
> 
> Word count: 1907

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This could follow the last chapter but it doesn't necessarily. It was actually written before the other. I have some ideas about where this fic-let could go, but haven't written that. If I do, I will change this into a story of it's own.

He'd said nothing could happen. He made that clear. I understood. Of course I understood. That didn't make it easy. Especially when he was standing there, looking at me like he wanted to eat me alive. And not in the 'I'm a werewolf with a bad attitude' way either. How was I supposed to not notice that look? How was I supposed to control the pure want that filled me in response to that look. How was I supposed to just get in the jeep and drive home and pretend that nothing was happening when he looked at me like that.

I sat on the steps leading up to the porch while everyone left. I waved them off one by one, taking my time shutting my laptop down—making it look like I was in the middle of something. In reality, I was just stalling, waiting to see if he was going to do something about that look he'd been giving me all afternoon.

I shut the laptop, put it in my bag and put the strap over my shoulder as I stood up, slowly walking over to my jeep. He was leaning on a tree watching me; watching with that hungry look in his eye. The closer I got the more I realized that I hadn't been imagining it. I reluctantly turned my back to him as I opened the driver's side door and slung my bag over the seat and into the back. I didn't hear him move from his spot by the tree because he didn't want me to. I didn't know he had moved until his voice next to my ear made me jump.

"You didn't need to stay all afternoon, Stiles," he spoke softly. He stood close enough to my back that his hot breath fanned across the back of my neck.

How was I supposed to ignore that? How was I supposed to pretend that it didn't have any effect on me at all? Even if I could convince myself that he hadn't intended to drive me crazy there was no hiding the spike in my heartbeat from him, or the fact that just being this close to him was causing my dick to stir. I gripped the edge of the door hard enough that my knuckles turned white before swallowing thickly and turning to face him.

He'd made his case for nothing happening between us. He'd made sure I'd understood that he couldn't risk it with me being underage. I got that. My dad was the Sherriff, there was no way that he wouldn't press charges if he found out about it, and Derek couldn't afford the extra attention it would draw to him and the wolves. I understood that. What I didn't understand was how he could say those things and then not realize what getting up in my personal space like this was going to do to me. He must just like torturing me, I suppose.

"It's a nice day," I said with a gulp. "Why sit inside and research when I can sit out here in the fresh air?"

He didn't respond, of course. That would make things easier than trying to interpret the looks he was giving me. He didn't back away from me at all, still crowding into my bubble. He'd been working drills with the Betas all afternoon and the heat poured off him. A sweaty werewolf standing that close should be disgusting, revolting really, but he was anything but.

"It's hard to concentrate when you're watching us," he gritted through clenched teeth. His eyes flicked to my mouth as I licked my suddenly parched lips. This wasn't 'friendly' banter. This wasn't pretending there was nothing going on. This was staring the overt sexual tension straight in the face and being expected to walk away from it. I'm a seventeen year old dude, there's only so much sexual frustration I can hack before it's going to break me.

"I...uh...I think I might take the jeep out for a drive...in the park...outside of town. It could be...um...a good place for a run maybe? If you wanted to come?" I hadn't been thinking about taking the jeep out. I had been thinking about going home and dealing with the boner that kept threatening to spring up on me, but my mouth just ran away without my brain having a chance to catch up. I raised my eyebrows at him in silent question, knowing that he'd likely storm off in anger at my boldness. I'd likely have to hear about it later too, but on the off chance that something might come of it, I was willing to go with the ridiculous plan my lust-addled mind seemed to have drummed up. The park was out of my dad's jurisdiction, and wasn't heavily patrolled. Even if someone were to see us together there was a crazy slim chance that word of it would ever get back to get us in trouble. Not that I really expected anything to happen between us anyway. I'd come to terms with that not being a possibility. He'd been pretty clear on that point.

He stood motionless in front of me for an excruciatingly long time. I could have counted the time down by the pounding on my own pulse in my ears if I had been so inclined, but mostly I just wanted him to either agree to take a ride with me, or get out of my face. Without warning he stepped back and walked around the front of the jeep and got in the passenger side.

Okay, that was totally unexpected. Clearly I hadn't been paying close enough attention when he'd told me that nothing could happen between us, because there was apparently some wiggle room in that.

I got in the jeep, started it up and pulled out of the driveway without saying a word or even daring to look over at him. I was afraid if I breathed the wrong way he'd shut this down before it was even anything to shut down. I turned off the road leading through the preserve that headed out of town toward the park. Like most of the parks in California, it wasn't much more than a bunch of hiking trails in the forest, Scott and I had spent a lot of time out there the summer before he'd been bitten and I could think of a few places that we were unlikely to see another person.

Once we were on the highway, I chanced a quick glance in his direction. He sat completely still, eyes focused on the road, his right hand curled around the roll bar over the side window.

The drive to the head of the hiking trail I had in mind didn't take more than 20 minutes from when we'd left. It was still early in the season so there was hardly anyone in the park at all, and I knew this late in the afternoon if there were no cars on this track we wouldn't see anyone. I pulled the jeep onto the side of the turnaround point that acted as the parking lot, where it wouldn't be visible from the main road and shifted it into park.

I took a deep steeling breath, unlatched my seatbelt and turned to face him before I could chicken out. I scooted to the edge of the seat, getting myself as close to him as I could, making it almost impossible for him to not acknowledge me. Swallowing thickly, I took a deep breath and just forged ahead. I was tired of dancing around this thing, and I wasn't going to let him get away without acknowledging it.

"Derek," I started, but he stopped my words short by turning to look at me abruptly. His eyes were dark and penetrating as he stared at me. My breath caught in my chest, and I felt like he could see right through me to see my blood rushing through my veins.

Taking a chance had gotten me this far, I was game to take another. What's the worst that could happen? Besides his using brutal force to keep me away from him, that is. I pushed myself out of my seat, thankful that the jeep had such a huge cab, as I manoeuvred one knee on either side of his hips and perched myself in his lap. He didn't push me away, he didn't flinch. He didn't even move except to drop his hand from the roll bar to rest feather light on my thigh. I steadied myself with one hand on the edge of the seat back near his shoulder, trying to touch him as little as possible in the suddenly close quarters. I wanted to press myself against him and attack his mouth, but I needed to make sure we were on the same page first. His not shoving me back in my own seat was a good start.

"Is this okay?" I asked with a shuddering breath, searching his face for an indication one way or the other.

He shook his head almost imperceptibly and breathed a nearly silent "no." No should have meant that he wasn't on board with my bold actions. No should have been a cue for me to remove myself from his lap. No should have been the end of things rather than the start.

Instead, his light touch turned quickly to a firm grip as his fingers dug into my thigh. I gasped and leaned forward at the same time he moved forward; our mouths crashing together in a rough kiss.

My first real kiss to be honest—my _seven minutes in heaven_ trip to the closet with Suzy White in 8th grade didn't really count because she freaked out after I had only touched her hand and we'd spent the whole seven minutes talking—not that I told anyone that.

It wasn't at all what I had imagined as my first kiss would be like. It was hard and rough and more teeth that I had ever thought a kiss possible of. I couldn't get enough of his mouth. I grabbed tight to his shoulders, pulling myself as close to him as I could possibly get. I knew that the painful points that his fingers dug into my thighs would be bruises later and I couldn't even begin to care. I wanted those bruises—I wanted anything he was willing to give me after we'd been toying around each other for so long.

As suddenly as the kiss had started, Derek, reached his hand up to my face and pulled away from me as he held me in place.

"Easy," he panted while running his thumb over my bottom lip. My breath came in deep panting gasps and I realized as Derek raised his other hand to my chest that my heart was hammering inside my ribcage. "Breathe," he soothed and drew me forward to meet his mouth again. He kissed me slowly. He teased my lips with his tongue. He pulled away when I tried for more. It was even more intoxicating than the rough kiss had been. I was surrounded by everything I had been telling myself I couldn't have—everything Derek.


	3. The End of the Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has a few things he needs to clarify with Derek after a pack meeting.
> 
> Rating: Mature 
> 
> Word count : 2040 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not related to the other two chapters at all. Again, I have ideas about where this could go, but haven't written any more to it yet.
> 
> Stiles is quite bold, and likely out of character, but I like him being the one to initiate things between them.

At the end of the meeting everyone got up, and gathered their things making their way to the door while chatting amongst themselves in pairs or small groups. Just like the end of every other pack meeting.

Stiles was following behind Scott and Isaac, joking about how they were going to get back at Coach Finstock  for the extra laps he'd given them for goofing off; all perfectly normal post pack meeting behaviour from all of them really. Yet, somehow it wasn't like every other pack meeting.

Derek looked around the living room of his apartment after everyone was gone trying to figure out what was off. Something felt different.

"Crap! I forgot my bag upstairs," Stiles grumbled as they filed out the front door of the building. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” he called after Scott and Isaac going back through the doors and up the four flights of stairs again.

Derek was leaning in the open door frame with his messenger bag in hand when Stiles appeared at the end of the hall. A slight smile played on his lips as Stiles made his way down the hall to where Derek waited.

"You left this on purpose. Didn't you?" Derek asked, holding the strap of the bag out to the younger man.

Stiles leveled a decidedly guilty smirk at Derek before answering with a shrug," I don't know what you're talking about." He scrutinized Derek's response carefully: watched as Derek's eyes flicked to his mouth as he ran his tongue over his lower lip; watched as Derek slowly lowered the raised hand offering the bag as he leaned his hip against the wall and tucked his hands into his pockets; watched as Derek finally dragged his eyes back up to meet his own.

"Right," Derek huffed disbelievingly.

Stiles mocked him "Right."

They stood motionless, leaning in their respective spots watching each other for a long weighty pause, before Stiles pushed off the wall with his hip and took a slow, confident step forward without taking his eyes of the Alpha. "So, tell me, Derek. I'm not misreading this thing that's happening between us, am I?" he asked with a raise of his eyebrows.

Derek threw Stiles’ words back at him, "I don't know what you're talking about," and watched as Stiles bit back a smile.

Derek knew full well what Stiles was talking about. They had been dancing around each other for months, neither of them taking any steps in a direction to start or stop this thing that wasn't quite happening between them. Not until tonight anyway; not until Stiles had left his bag behind, which Derek knew for a fact was completely intentional, and actually quite clever if he was admitting things. They rarely had cause to be alone together when it wouldn't raise suspicion from one of the other pack members, and if they were going to figure this out without becoming fodder for the rumor mill—a.k.a. the Beacon Hills wolf pack—they would need to use a little discretion. That was just the first of a number of stumbling blocks that had prevented Derek from making the first move.

There was also the fact that he was 23 years old, and Stiles was still in high school, and the Sherriff's son on top of that. There was the fact that admitting he felt something for the younger man not only made him vulnerable but also made Stiles vulnerable to anyone that wanted to get to Derek—like the Alpha pack that they had faced in the Spring. In his opinion, Stiles was already vulnerable enough due to the fact he seemed to have earned himself a permanent place in the pack as the boy who ran with wolves. He was human, and had no intention of ever changing that despite the fact that he would make a better Beta than any of the others.

Stiles knew that Derek was just messing with him this time, that was easy. But he'd also learned to tell when Derek wasn't being fully honest with him—something that had been happening more lately when certain topics came up. Topics like Stiles' botched attempt at leading a normal life and actually asking someone out. Derek had told him to have a good time, had told him that he was happy he'd found someone that seemed interested in him—Casey had been interest in dating anyone on the lacrosse team, and Stiles had been the only one to pay any attention to that fact—it hadn't turn out all that well in the end. That's what Derek had said, but Stiles knew he'd meant pretty much the opposite—or at least he'd suspected that's what Derek had meant if he hadn't been reading all the cues wrong. A fact he was confident enough about to finally bring it up.

"Hmmm..." Stile's hummed and nodded his head slowly as he took another step toward Derek. "I think you do, Derek. And I think that if we're going to talk about this, then maybe we should get out of the hallway and away from the prying eyes of Mr. Spencer at the end of the hall. We wouldn't want any rumours starting up, now would we?" He raised his eyebrows in question at the werewolf again before taking the final step forward and brushing past where Derek took up most of the doorway and into the apartment.

Derek let out a heavy sigh and rolled his eyes at Stiles' back. The kid was going to be trouble, he could just feel it. The kind of trouble that he really didn't need old man Spencer listening in on even if he wasn't dangerously close to corrupting a minor—although if anyone were to take an honest look at the situation, Derek wasn't the one doing to corrupting. Hell, Derek had a hard time remembering that Stiles was just a kid, and it wasn't because he wasn't constantly reminded of that fact every time another pack member was around because school inevitably came up as a predominant subject nine times out of ten. Stiles didn't act like a teenager—taht could probably be put down to the fact that being involved with the pack had made him grow up in a damn hurry. Maybe Derek could be held responsible for corrupting a minor after all. He followed Stiles into the apartment, setting the bag down against the wall and closed the door by leaned on it.

"So?" Stiles chirped, turning back to face Derek where he stood in the entrance.

"So."

"So, I don't want to play this bullshit game anymore, Derek. I'm done with it," Stiles affirmed as he watched Derek with his lips parted in an all too familiar contemplative expression.

"What are you going to do then, Stiles?" Derek challenged him. He couldn't bring himself to make the move that he so desperately wanted to, which was attack Stiles and devour that fucking obscene mouth of his.

Without moving, without even taking his eyes away from Derek's, Stiles gave his answer. "I'm going to kiss you unless you can give me a good reason not to." He waited an excruciatingly long pause, Derek could almost hear the boy's mind counting down the seconds he felt to be a fair reaction time, before he stepped forward confidently. He stopped only inches from Derek, their faces so close it was difficult to focus on one another, and waited again. The second wait time seemed longer, as Derek watched the decision to commit to this sweep over Stiles. He paused a moment longer, his open mouth hovering just over Derek's.

"Last chance," he breathed, practically going crossed eyes as he searched Derek's eyes for any sort of sign that this wasn't really going to happen. Then he surged forward and planted his parted lips on Derek's.

It was brief, and rather innocent considering how hard both of their hearts were suddenly pounding. It was nothing more than a short pressing of lips together, before Stiles stepped back and searched Derek's face again.

That was all the push the Alpha needed, however, and with a rush of pent up frustration leaving him, he grabbed Stiles hips roughly and walked forward until the teen's back hit the opposite wall with a dull thud. His hand was at Stiles' face, and his mouth going back to meet the boy's soft pink lips. He paused only a moment to register no resistance at all on Stiles' part before kissing him again, rough and wet this time, and absolutely filthy. He poured every thought he'd ever had about what he wanted to do to Stiles over the last few months into the kiss and reaped the reward of Stiles' hungry mouth returning it full force.

Stiles was trapped between the hard apartment wall and his back and the hard wall of Derek's body pressed tight to his front. Yet, his hands clawed at Derek, searching for the right hold to pull Derek even closer. There was no space for Derek to be pulled further into. They kissed and licked and bit each other's mouth, releasing all of the desires they'd been hiding for far too long.  Giving up the quest to get Derek closer, he opted for just more of him instead and boldly raked his fingers up Derek's back dragging the hem of his shirt with it.

Derek's skin was hot and smooth under his touch, and he could feel the taught muscles of his back working just under the surface. Derek reached his own hand up to the back of Stile's hair and tangled his fingers in it, appreciative of his allowing it to grow out for more than just the aesthetics. He broke his mouth from the teen's, both of them panting, and looked at him a moment before lightly tugging his head back by the hold on his hair and lowering his head to the smooth, pale skin of Stiles' throat.

A stuttering choked moan left Stiles' mouth and went straight to Derek's dick.  "Fuck, Stiles," Derek gasped against Stiles' neck. He struggled with the reasons he'd not acted on this before now, needing reassurance that Stiles was on board. "This is okay?" He asked, running his hand down the youth's side to grasp his hip firmly before lifting his head again.

Stiles gave an open mouthed nod, his face and neck mottled pink. Derek brushed his thumb over his cheek to feel the heat behind the flush, causing Stiles to shudder. "Yeah. Yes, I'm okay, it's good," Stiles breathed a rush of answers while still nodding emphatically. "Great, really. Oh God, Derek, kiss me again?" his voice shook with a tremor that Derek could feel go through his entire body.

Derek knew that Stiles didn't have much in the way of experience, but enthusiasm more than made up for that. He didn't have a ton of experience himself, but had enough to know that things were going to get out of hand quickly if he let them. A big part of him wanted to let them; he wanted to just grab Stiles and drag him off to his bed right that second, but he also didn't want to freak Stiles out. He didn't want just a one night thing with him—though he'd take that at this point if that was all the teen was willing to give him. Stiles made him feel things that he hadn't let himself feel in far too long: he felt comfortable when it was just the two of them; he felt like his life wasn't a giant pile of mistakes and consequences; he felt like there was actually some hope of having a normal life someday; and it all felt too fucking good to just throw away for a roll in the hay.

Stiles arched his body off the wall and into his, pushing their hips flush together and drawing attention to the fact that they were both rock hard. Derek groaned into Stiles' mouth as Stiles ran the hands on his back further up taking his shirt with them, and without a second thought he leaned away enough for Stiles to pull it over his head.

* * *

to be continued . . . ?


	4. Just Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles had been taken hostage during the battle with the Alpha-pack. As part of the agreement reached Derek is told to wait for his release...Derek waits.
> 
> Raiting: Teen 
> 
> Word count: 817 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not related to the previous three chapters.

Derek launched himself off the porch steps as soon as he heard the sound of feet crunching in the underbrush. Walking toward the sound, ready for anything after the battle they had just been through with the Alpha pack, he easily recognised the approaching person as Stiles once the teen was close enough to scent—the sharp tang on adrenaline and fear cutting through the cold night air long before Derek was able to lock eyes on Stiles. He rushed forward to meet the boy as he stumbled over a tree root, bracing him up an arm over his shoulders, taking the majority of Stiles' weight on himself.

"I got ya," Derek huffed as Stiles' collapsed against him.

Stiles clenched his fist in the front of Derek's tattered shirt as the Alpha helped him through the last section of dense trees leading up to Hale house. Relief flooded through the young man at having finally made it through the forest back to familiar ground. He wasn't sure how he'd managed to get away from the Alpha pack to be honest, but he knew that he had to keep moving despite the utter exhaustion that threatened to bury him.

Derek helped Stiles across the drive-way, half guiding, half carrying him, and sat him on the porch steps where he had been sitting since the end of the battle—waiting for any indication that the Alpha pack had kept their deal and released Stiles, waiting as instructed despite the insistent urge to run out looking for the teen. Under the weight of his soaked clothing, Derek could smell that Stiles wasn't badly hurt at all—a few minor scrapes and some bruising—and the fear and the adrenaline rush were starting to dissipate as well, leaving a trembling in the youth's muscles.

Stiles clung to Derek's shirt and arm as the werewolf lowered him to sit on the stair, forcing Derek to sit next to him. He was met with wide, honey brown eyes reflecting his own feelings of panic and relief back at him.

"You're okay," he murmured reassuringly, raising his free hand to curl around Stile's shoulder, hoping to ground him. "Just breathe," he reminded as he sensed the amping up of Stile's heartbeat and gasping breaths. He had witnessed more than one of Stiles' panic attacks in the last year and was hoping to talk him down before it got that far this time.

Stiles tried to calm his breathing, but having survived the night and having Derek this close after fearing he never see him again was too much for him. He acted on his decision, before he even realized he'd made one, and leaned forward to press his mouth the Derek's. He'd wanted to kiss him, badly, for a long, long time and the fuzzy mindedness he was experiencing after having been on an adrenaline high for the last who-even-knows how long made it impossible to fight.

Shocked at the bold contact, Derek cupped Stiles' cheek and pulled back. He searched the teen's eyes for something, anything, he could draw on that made this seem like a bad idea, but found only rejection which fed the mounting panic attack. He needed Stiles to calm down, and he'd wanted this for longer than he was willing to admit even to himself, so he ran his tongue over his bottom lip nervously and leaned back in to capture Stiles' mouth again.

A soft, surprised groan vibrated against Derek's fingers held to Stiles throat. Derek took that as all the encouragement he needed to draw the teen even closer. He tried to keep Stiles' fragile emotional state at the forefront of his mind, pulling him close and keeping his arm around him to provide warmth, parting his lips from the younger man's every so often to remind him to breathe. He wanted to pull Stiles right into his lap, or lean into him until he was laid out on the floor of the porch, but kept a tight rein on the urge to push things along further. It was quite likely that Stiles would regret this later—Derek knew there was a good possibility he was taking advantage of his fragile state but couldn't bring himself to stop the kiss now that it had started.

Eventually, Stiles' trembling became more than either of them could ignore, and Stiles slowly pulled himself back.

"I'm cold," he whispered, his eyes fixed on Derek's lips.

"Let's get you inside and warmed up then," Derek said, standing and offering his hand to Stiles.

Derek guided Stiles through construction zone that was the current state of Hale house and stopped outside the bathroom door.

"The water's on; go take a hot shower. I'll get you something dry to wear," Derek instructed. Stiles nodded and turned to enter the bathroom, peeling his soaked shirt over his head before closing the door behind him.


	5. Ice pack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a super short little drabble that came to me after S03E02 when Stiles goads Derek into showing him his fist and ends up getting hit.
> 
> It's fluffy and innocent. Rated G
> 
> Words: 543

Stiles headed for the kitchen once he had contributed all he could to the plan. Derek found him digging in the freezer and finally settling on holding a bag of frozen strawberries in his throbbing hand—there weren't a lot of other options and he knew from experience that if he didn't ice the injury it would be worse the next day. Stiles hadn't noticed him standing there yet, so Derek reached out and touched the teen's elbow to get his attention. Stiles jumped, of course he jumped, the wolves were always sneaking up on him, lurking around corners, hiding in the dark, and Derek was the worst of the lot.

Derek raised his finger to his own lips and silently shushed Stiles. If he'd thought about it he would have chastised himself for doing it, but it was instinct and he didn't question it given that there were other wolves in the next room.

Stiles' brow crumpled down in a annoyed smirk and he shook his head in non-verbal question. Not only wondering why Derek insisted on them being silent, but wondering why Derek was there in front of him in the first place.

The second question was answered as Derek reached forward and took the strawberries from Stiles and placed them on the counter. He took the younger man's hand in his own and turned it palm up, inspecting where he had hit him earlier. He pressed his thumb into the joints while monitoring Stiles' heartbeat and breathing, making sure he hadn't broken anything. He felt bad having found Stiles' looking for ice in the first place and was relieved that the damage seemed to be minimal. He glanced up at Stiles who still looked questioning.

"I'm sorry," Derek mouthed the words without speaking. Stiles' face softened with the apology only to have shock replace the previous confusion.

Derek wrapped one hand around Stiles' wrist lightly spread the boy's fingers creating a flat surface with his hand. He pressed his own fingers to the hurt area, drawing the pain from Stiles' hand into his own. After the flood of ache began to subside, Derek lifted his hand up as Stiles curled and flex his fingers into a fist.  

Stiles nodded his head, looked up to meet Derek's gaze and silently whispered thanks. He dropped his eyes again where Derek's fingers still curled around his wrist. His breathe stuttered slightly as Derek trailed his index finger over the palm of his hand before letting his wrist go and stepping back. He looked up at the Alpha with his lips parted slightly. A look mixed look of awe and uncertainty swept across his face.

They stood looking at one another a drawn out moment before Scott's voice calling to Derek from the doorway broke through whatever moment it seemed they might be sharing.

"Derek, let's roll, man!"

"Stay here," Derek instructed with a stern look and raised eyebrow, only it sounded more like a question to his own ears—like he were asking Stiles to wait there for him to get back.

Stiles could only nod his head and watch Derek's back as he stalked out of the kitchen. Left standing leaning against the counter to wonder what the hell had just happened.

 


	6. The Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on a tumblr post/prompt from [my dear sourwolf](http://mydearsourwolf.tumblr.com/post/54567229573/the-next-time-derek-slams-stiles-against-a-door-i)  
>  _"The next time Derek slams Stiles against a door I hope it’s from behind, with his chest pressed against Stiles’ shoulder blades, mouth panting hotly against the curve of Stiles’ neck, feeling a shudder run through the flushed-sensitive skin when Derek’s lips hover too close. (◕‿◕✿)"_
> 
> Word Count: 500  
> Rating: Teen

Derek was on the other side of the door waiting for him when Stiles walked through the sliding door of the loft. Before he knew what was happening, Stiles found himself sandwiched between the still open door and the hard wall of Derek’s chest, his cheek pressed tight to the smooth metal surface as one large, too-hot hand griped the back of his neck, another curled tight around his left biceps.

"I told you to wait here!" Derek’s voice rumbled through Stiles’ chest, hot breath fanned over his neck as the Alpha leaned into him. It had been a while since Derek had taken Stiles’ personal space bubble for granted in such an extreme way, even longer since he’d resorted to violent threats to get his point across. Stiles’ knew him better now, and knew the werewolf’s threats of bodily harm were empty for the most part. What he didn’t expect was the rush that having Derek so close and menacing was giving him. His breath caught in his throat, not from fear, but from a sudden and seemingly uncontrollable wave of longing.

"I left to…um…" Stiles struggled to string together a response, a reason for disobeying the Alpha’s direct order, an excuse, anything other than the wanton whimper that threatened to slip through his parted lips as Derek leaned further into him.

"We can’t protect you if we don’t know where you are, Stiles," Derek gritted out through clenched teeth right next to Stiles’ ear.

"Fuck…" the younger man gasped in response, as a shudder crept down his spine from where the fingers on his neck tightened ever so slightly. He involuntarily arched into the broad chest at his back. His mind reeled from the sudden rush of desire he felt. Sure, he’d easily admit to finding the Alpha attractive—who in their right mind didn’t, honestly?—but finding him easy on the eyes and having an unprecedented and out of control urge to jump his bones were two completely different things, thank you very much!

Derek’s already furrowed brows dipped further together in a confused scowl as he breathed deep, nostrils flaring, taking in the heady spiced scent wafting from Stiles’ skin. Arousal wasn’t a scent unusual to find clinging to a teenager, especially Stiles, but the sudden flood of it coupled with the teenager being suddenly tongue tied clued Derek in, in a hurry.

Stiles’ breathing was nearing a pant as Derek dipped his nose to his neck and breathed deeply again.

"Stiles?" It was impossible to miss the meaning behind Derek’s question made only of the boy’s name. That one word asked for explanation, for clarification, and for permission. Permission was granted by the simple act of Stiles dropping his shoulder and leaning his head to the side, presenting the wide expanse of his neck. Derek’s mouth hovered over the pale skin a moment before another whimper from Stiles broke his resolve. He ran his tongue down the younger man’s throat from jaw to collar bone…


	7. The Rocket's Red Glare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pack goes to watch the fireworks on the 4th of July. 
> 
> Derek/Stiles
> 
> Tags: hurt/comfort, Independence Day, 4th of July, fireworks
> 
> Words: 831
> 
> Rating: Teen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not American, so the 4th of July came and went for me without much excitement, but I did think about writing something involving fireworks on Canada Day, it just didn’t happen until the 5th. 
> 
> This isn’t really a fic at all, it’s more of a brain storming session in preparation for a fic, but I just haven’t the time to do anything more serious than this with it right now.

The pack is watching fireworks on the lacrosse field. Derek freaks out because, duh, fire plus loud noises, plus smoke, plus what the fuck was he thinking that he could handle this? He slips away, thinking that no one noticed and is headed to the parking lot when Stiles catches up with him.

Stiles, being concerned, stops Derek and figures out what the issue is. He thinks of a quick solution and grabs Derek by the wrist, dragging him to his jeep. He orders Derek to get in, which of course there is a minor argument about. Once in the jeep, stiles rummages in the back seat for his backpack, turning sideways in his seat and crowding into Derek’s side of the jeep, which neither of them seems to notice. He pulls his headphones from his backpack and thrusts them as Derek, pulling the cord to fish the ipod out of the pocket.

When Derek hasn’t put them on, he takes them from the wigged out alpha and clamps them on his head for him. He turns the music on, not bothering to change where he had currently been listening the last time, and pulls Derek’s hand face up, plopping the ipod in his palm. His guides Derek’s hand to adjust the volume, watching his face carefully. Slowly, Derek starts to relax while watching Stiles the whole time.

Neither of them notice that they are basically holding hands, with Stiles hand wrapped around Derek’s on the music player. But the connection allows Derek to feel Stiles’ elevated heartbeat without being able to hear since the music is blocking his senses. The flashes of light are still visible, but the sensory deprivation is enough to start to calm him.

He tells Stiles that it’s helping, but of course he speaks too loud because he can’t hear, which makes Stiles laugh a little. Which Derek thinks too much about since he can see Stiles but not really hear him. He starts to pay closer attention to his other senses now that he’s calming down. He feels the heat of stiles’ hand around his, and feels the quickened pace of his heart. His eyes drop to their linked hands a moment and then back up to Stiles’ face.

When he asks why Stiles heart is beating so fast, Stiles laughs again, but more self-consciously this time, pushing his finger against his own mouth in a ‘shh’ gesture before lightly touching them to Derek’s. The teen’s face drops slightly in shock at his boldness.

They watch each other carefully until the flashing of fireworks stops. Stiles waits a few minutes longer to be sure there won’t be a second wave, before reaching forward and tapping the headphones to prompt Derek to take them off.

"I think they’re done," he says when Derek reaches up to pull them around his neck, using the hand that’s not still entwined with Stiles’ around the ipod. He swipes his thumb over the controls to turn the volume down, the tinny hollow sound of the music still filtering around the jeep’s cab from the headphones around his neck.

Derek raises his hand to press against stiles’ chest over his heart, causing Stiles to gasp. He looks down at the hand on his chest and then back up at D with his mouth hanging open slightly. He becomes suddenly aware of just how close and intimate they are sitting. He knees pressed into Derek’s thigh where he was turned sideways in his seat, their hands entwined and now Derek’s hand on his chest. The Alpha’s brows dip slightly.

"your heart is still racing," Derek states, the question clear in his voice

"Adrenaline," Stiles says as an excuse, hoping that Derek drops it before the incredibly embarrassing truth comes out. He’s painfully aware of the fact that Derek hasn’t pulled his hand away. Stiles puts his free hand around Derek’s wrist and tries to pull his hand off his chest to regain some sense of space before he does something stupid. The tentative truce between them was still too fragile, he didn’t want to make things hard between them again despite how much he wanted to feel the older man’s hands on him – a realization he’d been slowly coming to terms with on his own. But Derek pulls his hand and weaves their fingers together before placing them back on stiles’ chest.

He leans forward slightly, closing the small space between them to sniff along Stiles’ neck.

Stiles squeaks Derek’s name as a question just before the older man lifts his head enough to brush his lips against Stiles’ parted mouth in an all too brief non-kiss. Before Stile’s mind can catch up with what’s happening, Derek has sat back, pulled his hands free of Stiles’ and is pulling the headphones from around his neck.

Derek mumbles a quite thank you before he reaches out for the door lever and getting out of the jeep, leaving Stiles to watch after him dumbfounded.


	8. Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek/Stiles  
> G/K  
> Super short (167 words)  
> I wrote this as anonymous ask for someone on tumblr to cheer them up about a year ago, and I honestly can't remember who it was (I'm sorry). If it was you, please let me know.

Derek brings Stiles coffee sometimes. 

Not because he knows the teen isn't sleeping well and could use the extra jolt caffeine seems to have on his system. No, he brings it for much more selfish reasons than that. Like the genuine smile that it gets him and the way Stiles tells him he's the best ever. Or the little sigh it draws from him as he takes that first sip. But mostly he brings Stiles coffee because he likes to watch him drink it; how his tongue slips out of his mouth to find the little hole in the lid before those deadly plush lips wrap around the edge of the cup.

Derek brings Stiles coffee on days he's feeling just a little too low and needs something to brighten his day. One day he might just pull the cup away and replace it with his own lips, but until he works up the nerve, he'll just content himself with basking in the warmth it brings him. 


	9. Tell me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek makes Stiles tell him exactly what he wants.
> 
> Rating :T
> 
> Word count: 399

"I'm giving you the chance to tell me what you want. I'm open to just about anything but you need to tell me." Derek spoke quietly, looking straight up at the ceiling.

Stiles turned his head, looked at Derek a moment, and then focused his eyes on the open duct work above them instead. It was easier to say what he needed to that way. " Fuck. I want everything. I want to be able to look at you without worrying about getting caught."

Derek  scoffed lightly at that. "Stiles, I know when you're looking at me already. 

"I'm sure you do," Stiles nodded, more to himself than to Derek. "I'd like to be able to hold your hand if I want to; touch you.  I want to feel what your skin touching mine is like." He rolled over onto his stomach, turning his face to Derek before resting his cheek on his folded arms and continuing. "I want to be naked with you in this bed, our sensitive bits getting all up in each other's business." He paused for breath and calmed down a little, watching Derek for any sort of reaction. There was none. "I want to hear what you sound like when you lose control." Stiles voce was smooth and quiet; more of a purr than a whisper. "I want to see your O face," he smirked.  "I want to be the reason behind the O face." 

He waited again, giving Derek a chance to respond, but couldn't take the drawn out quiet after a while. "I want to fall asleep with you, wake up with you and do it all over again. I want you." 

"You done?" Derek asked finally, slowly turning his head to face Stiles. 

Stiles nodded. "For now." He felt vulnerable under Derek's gaze; he wanted to hide his face in his arms. He could feel his cheeks growing warm under scrutiny, but forced himself to hold eye contact. 

"Okay," was the only response Derek gave. It took longer than Derek expected for the words to filter through the workings of Stiles mind before the corners of his lips turned up in a ghost of a smile. 

"Yeah?" Stiles breathed, the grin threatening to overtake his face. 

"Yeah." 

Stiles lifted his head enough to work one arm free and reached across the tangle his fingers with Derek's where his hand lay on the mattress. 

"Cool."


	10. Not 16 anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ship: Sterek  
> Rating: T  
> Words:363
> 
> Future fic.  
> Derek returns. Stiles invites himself in.

After spending hours hanging out with members of his former pack, Derek catches a ride home from Stiles. He pulls up. to the curb in front of Derek’s new apartment building. It’s a small building but it looks nice and it’s in a relatively new part of town.

 

“You should invite me up,” Stiles says as he shifts the jeep into park and leans his forearms on the steering wheel.

 

“Should I?” Derek huffs with a surprised laugh, seemingly caught off guard by Stiles’ forward attitude.

 

“You should,” Stiles confirms, raking his eyes over Derek in a far from subtle manner. 

Derek takes a moment to study Stiles. It’s been years since they’ve spent any real time with one another, and Derek takes a moment to observe Stiles’ calm confident demeanour. "Yeah, okay," he nods, “do you want to come up?” 

 

Stiles smirks in response. "Yeah, okay.” He turns the key, killing the engine, and gets out of the car, following close behind Derek up the sidewalk to the front door of the building. 

 

Once in the new apartment Derek crowds Stiles up against the door without touching him. "Am I reading this right?” he breathes, his gaze fliting between Stiles’ mouth and eyes.

 

“You know you are, Derek. You’ve always read me right,” Stiles answers as he slips one hand over the curve of Derek’s shoulder. “But I know you need me to say it, so, yeah," he bites his lip and nods, "I want you.” He rests his other hand on small of Derek’s back, pulling him even further into his limited space. “I’ve wanted you since I was 16 years old and I’m pretty sure that you have wanted me almost as long." He emphasises his point by raising his eyebrows but doesn’t pause before continuing, “and I get it. I know you must have thought that you were some sort of monster. But I’m not 16 anymore, Derek. I’m here because I want to be here and I really fucking want you to kiss me.” Sliding his hand from Derek’s shoulder to cup his jaw, Stiles draws Derek into a kiss that starts out soft but quickly turns desperate.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](http://wordsnwolves.tumblr.com/)


End file.
